


Hot Water Bottle Theory

by RubyIntyale



Category: Whitechapel (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-28
Updated: 2012-10-28
Packaged: 2017-11-17 05:23:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/548065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RubyIntyale/pseuds/RubyIntyale
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by a prompt on the kinkmeme. Chandler confesses something to Kent. Things happen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hot Water Bottle Theory

**Author's Note:**

> First published on my Livejournal on 06/06/2012.

Chandler was close.

 

Oh God no. Please no. Not now.

 

“Kent! Kent, you...you need to stop, or I'm...Oh God.”

 

Kent smiled into his boss' neck and rubbed him a little bit harder through his trousers.

 

Shit.

 

Kent bit down slightly on the patch of neck he'd been gently kissing and sucked slightly.

 

Chandler came with a very unmanly wail.

 

Kent felt the dampness seeping through the thin fabric of Chandler's suit trousers and onto his hand. “Christ,” he pulled his hand away, smiling, “you really were close, weren't you?”

 

Chandler just sighed and slumped back against Kent's ancient green sofa. They sat in silence for a few minutes before Kent started talking again.

 

“Y'know, Joe, we've er, we've been together for a few months now and, well,” he gulped loudly and trailed off.

 

Chandler's eyes widened a fraction in panic, but Kent didn't see. Clearing his throat, Chandler answered (more abruptly than he'd meant to), “Can we have this discussion when I'm not sitting in a puddle of my own semen, please?”

 

Kent blushed, suddenly very interested in the half full mugs of tea on the coffee table. “Oh. yeah. Sorry.”

 

The couch springs complained as Chandler stood up and made his way to the bathroom. His crotch was making odd squishy noises as he walked. Wonderful. He took his time cleaning up. Anything to delay that conversation, the conversation Kent had been attempting to have with him far more frequently in recent weeks. The conversation about why they hadn't had 'proper' sex yet.

 

Chandler washed his hands and splashed cold water on his face. This was why he'd given up on relationships. He could never say what he meant, and the other person always ended up leaving because they thought it was them. That they'd done something wrong. Kent already lived his life as if he was an inconvenience to everyone. It hurt Chandler a lot to see him like that and he didn't want to make the hurt worse. Taking one more look at his tired face in the mirror, he headed back to the living room.

 

Kent's face lit up in a megawatt smile as he walked through the door. “All better now?”

 

“Much. Thanks,” he sat back down. The couch complained again.

 

Kent snuggled up to his side, stroking his thigh gently. Kent's hands were always so warm. All of him was warm really. For such a slight man, he gave off a lot of heat. Chandler liked to imagine that he'd be good in the winter. Like a living hot water bottle under the covers. Chandler smiled stupidly to himself for a moment, then forced his expression into neutrality again. Christ, this was difficult. If he could just say, maybe...No. No absolutely not. No. Kent wouldn't take him seriously. He'd laugh, or worse, he'd think Chandler was lying, and that it really was his fault after all.

 

Kent seemed to realise that Chandler had mentally tensed up, because he stopped his stroking and stared at Joe's knees instead. He took a deep breath, and another. Finally, in a very small voice, he spoke. “Joe, I need to ask you something.”

 

“Hmm?” Chandler tried to sound as relaxed as possible while his stomach turned to water.

 

“Look, I know I'm probably really, really wrong here, so feel free to laugh in my face if you want,” he coughed, scratched his nose a bit. “But when we're, y'know, together, the way you react, it's like...well, you over-react and I just wondered. Now, normally this wouldn't have even occurred to me because of your age, but, erm, are you a virgin?” The last part was said in a bit of a rush.

 

Fear froze Chandler in place. Of course. Of course Kent would work it out. He's wasn't stupid. Oh God. Chandler felt cold all over, even where Kent was still snuggled against him. He tried to speak, but his throat felt dry and thick and he couldn't get the words out. He made a small choking noise and pulled away.

 

“Oh. Oh!” Kent was staring right at him, brown eyes massive and liquid in the dim light of the room, “You are, aren't you?”

 

Chandler nodded once and turned away. He read the spine of every book on Kent's bookcase before he turned back again. He was surprised to see Kent grinning at him and blushing furiously. He cocked his head to one side.

 

Kent laughed slightly. “Sorry, Joe. I think I just came a little bit.”

 

“What?”

 

“You look like a deer in the headlights,” Kent shook his head, still smiling, “you're stealing all my best expressions.”

 

Chandler laughed a bit at that. He loosened his tie a little, sat further back on the sofa. “So, you don't mind?”

 

“Not in the least,” Kent was practically giddy, “it explains so much. And Joe, listen,” their eyes found and held each other, “if you're not ready, I get it. I'll stop talking about it, I promise.”

 

Chandler looked away again. “What if I want to talk about it?” He said quietly.

 

Kent's eyes widened impossibly further. “You want to talk about it?”

 

“I don't know. I might do.”

 

“OK. Erm, what...er...aspect of it do you want to talk about?”

 

Chandler groaned and covered his face with his hands. “Having it,” he mumbled through his fingers, “having it with you.”

 

Kent didn't respond. Eventually Chandler took his hands off his face and stared at him. “Emerson?”

 

Kent blinked a couple of times, “I zoned out for a bit there,” he smiled guiltily. “This is a big deal, Joe.”

 

“I know. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to put pressure on you or,”

 

“I want to,” Kent interrupted him, “I want to be...If that's what you want.”

 

“I think so. You're the only person who's ever, I don't know.”

 

“I think you need to be sure.”

 

Chandler forced a smile. “I've got a good ten years on you.”

 

“So?”

 

“You don't have to look after me.”

 

Kent folded his arms, smiled in a pained sort of way.

 

“God, this is exhausting,” Joe slouched back, smacking his head on the wood of the headrest. The padding had long since worn down to nothing.

 

“Mmmm,” Kent agreed. “Today was a long one.”

 

“Maybe we should go to bed,” Chandler said it without thinking, but the look on Kent's face made him instantly embarrassed. “Er, I mean”

 

“You've never slept over before,” Kent traced the pattern on the sofa with a long, elegant finger.

 

“I'd like to. If that's alright with you?” Truth be told, Chandler felt emotionally and well as physically drained. He didn't want to leave Kent after the conversation they'd just had. Plus, it was chilly out tonight, and he wanted to test his hot water bottle theory.

 

Kent smiled shyly at him, “That's great. That sounds, great, I don't know what you're going to sleep in though.”

 

Chandler shrugged, avoided eye contact “Couldn't we just, see how it goes?”

 

“Yeah,” Kent's voice had gone very low and quiet all of a sudden, “yeah, we could do that.”

 

“OK.”

 

“Right.”

 

“So...”

 

“Hmm? Oh yeah. Bed. I mean sleep. Yeah. Come on.”

 

Kent took Chandler by the hand and led him towards his bedroom. The curtains were already closed, so he turned on the lamp that was perched on the end of his desk. “I'm just gonna go and make sure everything's locked up for the night,” Kent smiled. “Get comfy. I won't be long.”

 

Chandler didn't think he'd ever felt less comfortable in his life. He stood in the middle of the room in his suit and still damp trousers, feeling exhausted, nervous and faintly ridiculous. He could hear Kent moving around, putting their mugs in the kitchen and locking the front door. Realising that his boyfriend would soon reappear, Chandler started to strip hastily. He folded his clothes into a neat pile and stacked them by the side of the bed. Then he rolled his tie into a little ball and sat it on top of the pile. Nodded once. Felt slightly more relaxed. Now, underwear. What should he do about underwear? Usually he'd sleep in nothing, both for comfort and hygiene reasons, but this situation was far from usual. Would Kent be offended if he kept his boxers on? Would he expect more than Chandler was willing to give (at that moment in time anyway) if he took them off? They'd seen each others' bits before. It wasn't that big of a deal. Not really.

 

Huffing in irritation, Chandler decided to throw caution to the wind and take the damn things off. They were still wet with come and cold water anyway. They'd be uncomfortable to sleep in. He flung them to one side and dived under the covers, just as Kent came back.

 

“All done. You look very snug,” he stared at Chandler, who had the duvet pulled up to his neck.

 

“I am. It's very...comfortable,” Chandler released his death grip on the duvet and lowered it a couple of inches.

 

Kent laughed quietly as he started to get undressed. Chandler watched him intently, his eyes sliding over every inch of creamy, pale skin as it was exposed. Kent pulled his shirt over his head without unbuttoning it properly, making his hair stick out at weird angles. Chandler desperately wanted to stroke him, to smooth those curls back into place again, but he didn't move.

 

Kent finished undressing (apart from his boxers, Chandler noticed angrily), turned off the light and crawled into bed. He encouraged Joe to turn onto his side and then spooned up behind him, stroking the DI from his shoulder down to his stomach. Chandler made a contented, relieved noise and snuggled up closer to him. The movement caused Kent's hand to stroke a little lower than he had meant it to. He froze.

 

“Joe?”

 

“Hmm?”

 

“You're completely naked.”

 

Chandler felt his face getting hot. This was actually mortifying. Maybe he should just go home. “I'm sorry, Emerson. My boxers were wet and I didn't want to sleep in them and I thought you'd be naked too and then you weren't and I didn't really have time to tell you that”

 

Kent placed a hand on Chandler's chin, tilted his head back and kissed him full on the mouth. Chandler made a sort of protesting noise, and then relaxed into the kiss.

 

Kent pulled away a few moments later. “It's fine.”

 

Chandler nodded meekly and turned his head back into the pillow. Kent snuggled up even closer than before and hugged him tight with an arm around his middle.

 

Somehow, Chandler managed to drift off, but not for long. He was tormented by images of Kent on top of him, kissing him, easing his legs back and touching him everywhere. He awoke with a frustrated groan. He was fully hard again and leaking onto the sheets. He pushed his arse back a little, trying to get some friction, forgetting that Kent was still behind him. The movement caused Kent's cotton covered crotch to rub deliciously against him. Chandler made a choked whimpering noise and stilled. This was absolute torture.

 

Kent frowned in his sleep and cuddled closer to Chandler, pushing his crotch more firmly against the DI. Oh, just kill me now. Chandler sighed in defeat and willed himself back to sleep.

 

He was listening to the clock ticking incessantly on the wall when he noticed that Kent was moving slightly, rocking his hips back and forth. His cock was hardening and pushing between Chandler's cheeks. The friction from the cotton felt exquisite. Chandler moved back into it, wondering vaguely whether Kent was awake.

 

“Em?” He whispered.

 

No response.

 

Chandler sighed. He kept up the slow rocking motion until it was literally too much to bear. Not knowing completely what he was doing, he turned around slowly to face Kent. The DC looked peaceful enough, and he was still for the time being. Chandler leaned over and kissed him on the cheek, smiling at the adorable way Kent's sleeping face creased up slightly at the contact. He kissed him again, then again, slightly lower, until he was kissing Kent's collarbone and then his chest.

 

Kent woke up slowly. “Joe?” He murmured, “What're you doing?”

 

Chandler stopped what he was doing instantly. He lifted his head, feeling guilty for waking the younger man up.

 

Kent opened his eyes fully. “Come here,” he pulled Chandler into his arms.

 

He was stronger than he looked. Chandler gasped as his cock brushed against Kent's thigh and then his hip.

 

Kent seemed more than awake now. He snaked a hand down between the warmth of their bodies and started to stroke Chandler gently. He kissed the older man on the chin. “Is this what you need?”

 

Chandler felt like sobbing with frustration. “No,” he managed to croak out.

 

Kent took his hand away. “I'm sorry. What do you want?”

 

“More.”

 

“More than...?”

 

Chandler nodded and buried his head half in the pillow, half in Kent's neck.

 

Kent started stroking him again, his other hand drawing comforting circles on Chandler's back. “Are you sure?”

 

“Yes,” Chandler whimpered, “being in bed with you, like this, I just. I need you. Please.”

 

Kent smiled, his body hardening fully in anticipation. “You really want to do this? Now?”

 

“Please,” Chandler sounded broken. He had started thrusting into Kent's fist.

 

Kent couldn't ever remember being this turned on. Never in his wildest, wettest, most wicked fantasies had he expected to be woken by a virginal Joseph Chandler practically begging for sex. It was frightening as Hell, truth be told. He wanted it to be good. He wanted Joe to think about it and want it constantly afterwards. He licked his lips and gently took his hand away from Chandler's cock, giving it one last squeeze before he did so.

 

Chandler made a desperate little noise as his source of slight relief was taken away. Kent gently pushed his shoulder until he was on his back, rolling with him to lie on top, never leaving more than an inch between their bodies. The kisses they shared were messy, passionate, hot. Chandler lifted his hips and writhed, moaning into Kent's mouth at the friction.

 

Kent pulled his mouth away. “Mmmnngg Joe, God,” he panted, “Christ you're so worked up.”

 

Chandler just moaned and kissed his neck.

 

Kent pushed his hips down involuntarily. “Wanna get straight to the main event?” He started stroking Chandler's cock again, “I don't think I'll survive foreplay.”

 

Chandler removed his mouth with an audible pop and lay back against the pillows. Their eyes held each other. Chandler nodded.

 

Kent kneeled up and reached for his bedside table, locating what he needed quickly and slamming the drawer shut. Chandler had sat up between Kent's legs. He pulled the elastic of Kent's boxers away from his hipbones and lowered it slowly over the younger man's cock and balls.

 

Kent sighed as the cool air in the room tickled him intimately. “Forgot about those.”

 

“Mmm,” Chandler was staring at his cock with lust-blown pupils, mouth open and pliant, and Kent was tempted, so very, very tempted, to lean forward and push his cock into Chandler's mouth.

 

Thankfully the DI was quick on the uptake. He started out by gently kissing the velvety head, tongue sweeping out occasionally. His eyes flicked to Kent for approval, but Kent's head had fallen back and his eyes were closed. Afraid that Kent was going to keel over, Chandler brought both hands up to his arse, holding him in place while his mouth explored. He took as much of Kent into his mouth as he dared, but it seemed to be enough. Kent kept making low groaning noises and rocking his hips. Chandler's own, ignored cock throbbed in protest. He gave Kent one last lick before pulling off, face flushed and chest damp with sweat.

 

Kent's head fell forwards again, but his eyes stayed closed. “You've never done that before,” he said quietly.

 

Chandler swallowed, “I had to. You were right there, I, I couldn't help myself.”

 

Kent opened his eyes and smiled, “Lay back down, Joe,” he said softly.

 

Joe complied, feeling nervous and missing the frantic kissing of a few moments ago. Kent lay on top of him again, shimmying out of his underwear in the process. He stroked Chandler's side and the outside of his thigh to calm him. His hand found Chandler's knee, and he pushed it up slightly.

 

“Lift up.”

 

Chandler did. Kent held him by the back of his thigh and slowly lifted his leg up until it was bent up to his chest, kissing him all the while. He pulled away briefly to flick open the lube and coat his fingers with it. Some of the clear gel drizzled onto Chandler's chest. He made a face.

 

Kent laughed a little at that. “I know it looks gross, but trust me, you're going to love this stuff pretty soon.”

 

Chandler made a 'hmmph' sort of noise and wiped at the stickiness on his chest.

 

Kent chuckled again and moved his fingers down and under.

 

“Oh!” Chandler closed his eyes as Kent rubbed the stretch of skin behind his balls. The long, thin fingers slowly made their way to his entrance and circled, slicking up the tight ring of muscle.

 

“This is gonna feel pretty weird at first,” Kent slowly eased the tip of his finger inside, “but don't fight it. Let it happen. I'm not going to hurt you.”

 

Chandler took deep breaths and focussed entirely on the incredibly new sensation and Kent's voice. He felt himself stretch and take more of Kent's finger, until the DC was sliding it back and forth with relative ease.

 

“Ready for another one?”

 

Chandler nodded, watching Kent's face the entire time, seeing the waves of concentration and the small smiles that were meant only for him. Two fingers hurt. Chandler felt extremely full and stretched. He noted, with panic, that Kent's cock was at least double if not triple the thickness of his fingers, and that it just was not going to fit. He ordered his body to relax more, but it did no good. Chandler whined in frustration.

 

Kent stilled his fingers. “Joe, look at me,” Chandler avoided his gaze. “Look at me.” When Chandler finally did, he continued, “This isn't going to happen while you're all tensed up. You've got to relax.”

 

“I want you,” Chandler's eyes were wide and damp, “I can't stand it any more.”

 

Kent sucked in a breath, “You're so fucking sexy when you're desperate,” he slid his fingers in and out some more, “I had no idea you'd be like this.”

 

Chandler felt the pain start to lessen at Kent's words. He felt looser, calmer, so turned on he thought he might implode. “Keep talking,” he begged, wriggling on the bed.

 

Kent moaned, moving his fingers faster before pulling them out and cautiously adding a third. Chandler groaned loudly at the added intrusion.

 

“Do you like it?” Kent asked breathily. “Is it good?”

 

“Mmmmnnnyeah.”

 

“Christ Joe, you're so tight. So fucking tight and hot inside.”

 

Chandler whimpered as Kent twisted his fingers and stroked him hard deep inside.

 

“Need to get my cock in you,” Kent panted, momentarily cursing himself for the total lack of filter between his brain and mouth, but if anything, his words seemed to work Chandler up even more. He was now pushing down on Kent's fingers, and he could feel his cock leaking precome onto the younger man's stomach. Kent pulled his fingers out slowly and wiped them on the bed. Chandler sighed at the loss. Kent felt blindly with his left hand for the condom he'd dropped on the mattress. He sat back on his heels, tearing open the little foil packet. He dropped the bits on the floor, raising an eyebrow at Chandler. Chandler smiled slyly at him. Kent grinned widely. He stretched the condom over the head and rolled it down. Chandler watched him intently.

 

“All clean and sanitary,” Kent attempted to joke.

 

Chandler wasn't really listening. His eyes kept flicking between Kent's cock and his face. He realised that he should probably feel a bit more nervous, but he was too desperate and worked up to care. Kent poured some more lube onto his hand and slicked up his cock. He crawled over Chandler on his hands and knees.

 

“You sure?”

 

Chandler nodded. Kent lifted his leg up higher, onto his shoulder this time, then he leaned forward and kissed him, plunging his tongue deeply into Chandler's mouth. Chandler became distracted with that sensation and didn't notice that Kent had moved towards his entrance until the head began to nudge inside.

 

The stretch felt extremely strange. Chandler broke the kiss and breathed deeply, looking down to where their bodies were slowly joining. Kent was breathing heavily, obviously forcing himself to hold back when he really wanted to just pound away. Chandler experimented with pushing out a little bit, causing Kent to slide inside a few more inches. They both groaned.

 

Chandler was drenched in sweat and his leg muscles were twitching with the effort. Kent seemed to be going on forever. After several agonizing minutes, he was finally buried to the hilt.

 

“OK?” He asked shakily, concerned brown eyes searching Chandler's face.

 

“Feels strange,” Chandler breathed.

 

“Yeah, it does, at first,” Kent pulled out slightly and pushed back in, moaned. “It'll be really, really good soon. I promise.”

 

Chandler pulled him back into another long, hungry kiss. Kent began to lengthen his stokes until he was sliding nearly all the way out before pushing back in. The pain gradually subsided and changed into the most exquisite stretch and burn that Chandler had ever experienced. All too soon he felt himself nearing the edge, and, at the same time, felt as if he'd never be able to get there. Kent had buried his face in his neck, his hand wrapped around Chandler's aching cock working in tandem to his thrusts.

 

Chandler whined in frustration. He needed to come so badly. He needed something to tip him over the edge. “Talk to me,” he moaned.

 

Kent lifted his head.

 

“Talk to me,” Chandler repeated, “I need to hear you.”

 

Kent sped up his thrusts and his hand on Chandler's cock. “Ahhh God, Joe. You're so tight. You're like a fucking vice. Feels so good. And, and, ahh, you keep squeezing around my dick and it's just, fuck! Fuck I'm so close. Are you close, Joe? Come for me.”

 

Kent's words were liquid fire to Joe's already strung out nerves. He moaned and thrashed, back arching up from the bed.

 

“Come on, Joe. Come for me. Come on me. Make me a fucking mess with it.”

 

That did Chandler in. He shouted Kent's name and sobbed as his release poured out of him in feverish, thick spurts.

 

Kent wasn't far behind. “Ahhh Joe! Love you. So good. Love you so much,” he bent Chandler's knee up to his chin and rode out his orgasm with several, forceful thrusts.

 

They lay together, still joined, for what felt like hours. When the cooling sweat on their bodies and the stickiness between them became too uncomfortable, they parted slowly, each sighing at the loss of the other. They lay on their backs. Chandler reached out to twine Kent's fingers in his own. They shared an intimate smile, words no longer needed for the time being.

 

Naturally, it was Chandler who suggested getting cleaned up. They walked to Kent's shower on shaking legs, only staying upright under the warm spray by holding each other close.

 

“I love you too,” Chandler murmured into Kent's ear once they were back in bed.

 

Kent turned his head and smiled, eyes already closing. “You get to be the big spoon this time.”

 

Chandler smiled and held him close. Yep. He was right. Kent was warm all over. His own living hot water bottle.


End file.
